


This Is Halloween!

by Narsil5



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Other, Post-Canon, The Haddock Family (How to Train Your Dragon), halloween fic, not at all scary bc i'm a coward on occaision, post httyd 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 20:57:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narsil5/pseuds/Narsil5
Summary: “After trick-or-treat,” Hiccup promised. “Now, speaking of,” He raised his voice so the whole group could hear. “Treats are the only thing accepted. If someone lacks treats, we do not—I repeat; do NOT—raid their house later in the night and steal their food. Do I make myself clear?” He looked pointedly at the twins, who sighed and nodded. Hiccup nodded back. “Alright then!” He clapped his scale-covered hands together. “Who wants candy?”





	This Is Halloween!

**Author's Note:**

> Have a post-httyd 3 fic of chaos

“Trick or treat!” Nuffink grinned from behind the straw moustache. He held out his bag eagerly. 

The lady at the door dumped some candy into his bag, smiling. “Here you go! Tell your father I said hello, alright?” 

“I ain’t no message carrier!” Nuffink said, in as best an imitation of his costume’s inspiration as he could manage. “But I will!” He added quickly, hopped backwards off the steps. “Hurry up, Zeph!” 

“I’m not dumb enough to skip the bottom five rungs of the ladder,” She stuck her tongue out at him. “And anyway, I’m not Zeph tonight, I’m Grandpa!” 

“We’re gonna distract the Red Death!” Nuffink laughed, grabbing his sister’s arm and pulling her into a dance with no real pattern. “We can do double the time!” 

“It’s ‘I can double that time’,” Zephyr giggled. She stumbled away a few steps when Nuffink let go, dizzy from the spinning. “Anyway, we got to go to Uncle Gobber’s now!” 

“Show him my costume!” Nuffink punched the air and started sprinting down the path, caring not where his bag swung. “Steal his candy!” 

“Fink!” Zephyr chided, jogging after him. “We don’t steal. We raid. Uncle Tuff says there’s a difference.” 

“Uncle Tuff is basically married to a chicken.” Nuffink objected. “What does he know?” 

“Loads more than you.” Zephyr caught up to him and gave him a noogie. “He’s a dragon rider, so he’s got to know some things.” 

They were outside the forge now, and from inside they could hear Gobber singing an old Viking tune, swapping some words out for more season-appropriate ones. Nuffink jumped up and pulled on a lever, and the door swung open as smoke poured out of a pipe. 

“This is Halloween! This is Halloween!” The boy chanted in a deep voice while Zephyr just grinned, pleased that her contraption had worked. 

“Ay, it’s my two favorite kiddies!” Gobber smiled widely, spreading his arms out for the hug—it was more of a tackle, really—that Nuffink immediately gave him. “How much loot d’ye got so far!” 

“Loads an’ loads!” Nuffink said triumphantly. He dumped the contents of his bag on the floor. “Can I leave this here? That way I can reload?” 

“’Course ye can,” Gobber nodded. “By tha way, who’re ye two ‘sposed to be?” 

“I’m ye!” Nuffink bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “An’ Zeph’s Grandpa!” 

“I wanted to tell him!” Zephyr elbowed her brother, then grinned brightly at Gobber. “But yeah, we’re you two! Because you’re our dad’s favorite stories to tell! Besides ones about Toothless, I mean.” 

Gobber teared up, hugging both of the kids tightly. “Bless ye,” He sniffed. “Yer the best kids in the village.” 

Nuffink wriggled away and adjusted his moustache. “Wha’ ‘bout Spike?” 

“He isn’ dressed as me nor my best frien’.” Gobber ruffled Nuffink’s already-messy hair, laughing when the boy’s small hands pushed his away. “But he’s a good’un too, I ‘spose. We takin’ him wi’ us? An’ how many houses have ye lil goblins already hit?” 

“Just the one’s from our house to here,” Zephyr said, picking out a hand for Gobber. “Put this on, Uncle Gobber, or do you have another costume?” 

“I got this,” Gobber dragged last year’s Snoggletog set piece—the Night Fury one—down from its place on the wall. “Yer dad talked me inta this, it had better not backfire.” 

“Mommy says most of daddy’s plans backfire,” Zephyr said doubtfully, eyeing the suit. Memories of blue fire spewing out from its mouth ran through her mind. 

“I took out the dad-blamed fire contraption,” Gobber said, as if he was reading her thoughts. “Nearly burned down the forge, but the blasted thing’s out now.” 

“Can I have tha hand?” Nuffink poked his head out from where he had ducked behind a table. “I can pull me hand inta my sleeve, see?” He demonstrated. Zephyr handed him the hand and he promptly shoved it up the shirt sleeve, completing the look of Gobber. “Lookit me!” He crowed, stumping around. “Ah’m the blacksmith! 

Zephyr held her hand over her mouth to stifle laughter at Gobber’s sigh. “Alright then. Nuffink, you want to get Spike now?” 

“Ay!” Nuffink cheered, crab walking—how he did that with one hook-hand was beyond both Gobber and Zephyr--out the door before springing to his feet. “Keep u if ye can!” He laughed and darted off down the path. “But I bet ye can’t, ye ancient ones!” 

“How dare ye!” Gobber yelled, stumping along after him. “I’m no more ancient then yer smart!” Zephyr snickered, keeping pace with Gobber easily. 

“Tha’s the worst insult I’ve ever received!” Nuffink shouted back. “But I still bet ye cannae catch me!” 

“How much are ye bettin’ on tha’, laddie?” 

Nuffink skidded to a stop and saw that Gobber had managed to come withing ten feet of him. “On second thought,” He said quickly. “I think I’m gonna take tha back. Yer not ancient, Uncle Gobber.” 

“Oh, I dunno,” Gobber shrugged, winking at Zephyr. “Ah think it may be a bit late for take-backs, don’t ye, lassie?” 

Zephyr nodded seriously. 

Nuffink gulped. He grabbed a near-by tree branch and hauled himself up, narrowly avoiding Gobber’s swipe at his waistcoat. “Ha! Take that, ye overgrown reptile!” He laughed and shook the branch so pine needles showered the fake Night Fury, 

“Who’re we ‘ttackin’?” A new voice said, and Spike dropped down from a higher branch. “Is that Mr. Gobber or someone else?” 

“It’s Uncle Gobber, yeah,” Nuffink said, shuffling over to make some room for his friend. “We were jes’ on our way ta get ye, how lang have ya been up here?” 

“Just a minute before you came,” Spikelout grinned and poked at Nuffink’s moustache. “Is this straw?” 

“It’s very good straw,” Nuffink said defensively. 

Spike put his hands in the air. “I never said it wasn’t. We goin’ to the Thorstons or Ingermans next?” 

“We’re supposed to be getting Uncle Tuff and Aunt Ruff, but you two are messing around and delaying us.” Zephyr put her hands on her hips. “If you two don’t come down, I’ll activate my trap.” 

“Ye don’ have a trap here,” Nuffink scoffed, and that second he was knocked out of his tree by an unseen force. “Ah! Wot in—TOOTHFUL!” He rolled over, only to be greeted by a whole load of slobber. “Ew!” He giggled, shoving upwards at the young dragon. “Yer gross, Toothy.” 

Toothful gave him one last lick and then hauled Nuffink to his feet, wriggling around a bit. “Alrigh’, Zeph,” Nuffink said, raising his fists. Toothful did the same, standing up on his feet and swatting at Nuffink. “How’d ye do it?” 

“Me and dad got them earlier today,” Zephyr said, obviously pleased with herself. “He said I could show you whenever I wanted.” 

Spike dropped down lightly next to Nuffink. “Is Caps here too?” He asked quietly, looking around. Sure enough, another NightLight tumbled to the ground next to him, snuffling at his shirt. “Hey buddy,” Spike smiled softly and scratched his dragon’s head. 

Aura, of course, landed next to Zephyr, and no greeting was needed, for they had seen each other earlier. 

“You lot comin’ or no?” Gobber’s voice was muffled behind the giant Night Fury mask, and all three NightLights—plus Spike—jumped. The dragons hissed, ears going down flat. 

Nuffink bonked Toothful lightly. “It’s jes’ Uncle Gobber, silly.” Toothful, not satisfied, had to go inspect the strange being, stopping his sniffing only when he was sure it was really Gobber. He then went to investigate the straw on Nuffink’s face. “Don’ ye dare eat tha—TOOTHFUL, NO!” Nuffink shoved Toothful’s face away from his own, scowling. “Not food! Ah’ll get ye enough candy later, enough to feed three o’ ye, but leave my ‘stach alone!” 

“What’s up?” Tuffnut—no, not Tuffnut. It was Ruffnut in her brother’s clothes, followed by Barf and Belch. “How’re you guys doing so far?” 

“We’re great!” Nuffink bounced over. “Zeph an’ dad brought the dragons! Gobber’s a Toothless! Where’s uncle Tuff? Why are ye dressed like him?” 

“He’s the tree,” Ruffnut pointed helpfully at a near-by tree, which wobbled slightly. “He says hi. And I’m dressed like him because he’s the most horrifying thing I’ve ever come across.” The tree wobbled faster in anger and fell over. Two boots stuck out the bottom, kicking furiously. 

“. . .Why’s Uncle Tuffnut wearing a tree?” Zephyr said cautiously, wondering if she was going to regret asking. 

She was. “It’s a throwback to one of our adventures as kids,” Ruffnut explained, kicking her brother-as-a-tree before propping him back up. “You should ask Hiccup about it, it’s probably one of the things we did that frustrated him the most.” 

“Tha’s everything ye did,” Gobber muttered. 

“Ah!” Came the muffled voice of the tree. “Who said that? It sounded like Gobber, but it’s coming from the terrible dragon costume!” 

“Are ye kiddin’ me?” Gobber exploded. “Yer wearin’ a tree, Tuffnut! A tree! How’re ye seein’, anyway?” This last part was rather curious, because there were no obvious holes in the bark. 

“My secrets are my own to keep,” Tuffnut said mysteriously, then fell over again. Instead of helping him this time, Ruffnut sat down somewhere along his back. “Ow!” Tuff objected, kicking his feet. “Oh, I am hurt! I am very much hurt!” 

“Muttonheads,” Snotlout opened his door and walked out. “Stop messing around outside my house, it’s weird. Do you know where Hookfang—AH!” He screamed, bear-skin cloak catching flame. “Hookfang!” He shrieked, sprinting away to sit in the nearest water basin. “Stupid dragon.” 

Nuffink and Spike giggled, ignoring the glare from Snotlout. “It’s pretty funny, Da,” Spike said, slightly apologetic. Turning to Nuffink, he asked: “Where’re your parents, Nuff?” 

“They should be here soon,” Zephyr answered for him, even before her brother could give her a questioning look. “Dad said he and Mom were going to take a flight.” 

“Lovebirds,” Snotloud muttered, shaking himself to try and dry off a little. Hookfang looked smug, but then again, he usually did. 

“. . .They’ve been married fer ten years,” Gobber pointed out, trying to itch his back but being foiled by his suit. 

“By tha way, Spike,” Nuffink gestured at his friend. “What’re ye goin’ as?” 

Spike was wearing a black vest with spiked shoulder pads. Half his face was covered with pink scar-like make-up. There was what Nuffink suspected was fur from his father’s cloak stuck to his face in a sort of beard, and he had a large wooden sword strapped to his back. 

“I’m Viggo,” Spikelout explained. “My dad says he was the scariest person he ever met, so I’m him.” He held his arms out so Nuffink could get an even better look at his costume. “Dad did the sewing, even taught me a bit,” He said proudly. “He’s the best at costumes.” 

“Teach me sometime, will ya?” Nuffink looked closely at the neat stitches. “Even my dad’s not as good at that.” 

“Of course,” Spikelout nodded. “Then you can teach your dad and tell him the Jorgensons are better at it than he is.” He laughed, and Nuffink did to. 

“The Jorgensons are better at what?” Hiccup and Toothless landed, scattering pine needles everywhere. Astrid and Stormfly did the same. 

Several got caught in Snotlout’s cloak, and he huffed in disgust. “Everything, but specifically sewing.” 

“Oh, I knew that,” Hiccup waved his hand dismissively. He turned to the kids. “In fact, did you know that your Uncle—or father, if you’re Spike—once made dragon armor out of Screaming Death scales with only--” 

“Yes,” The children chorused. 

Hiccup blinked a few times, and Astrid laughed. “I think you’re almost out of stories, Hiccup.” She teased, holding his arm. 

“Are we gonna go?” Nuffink said excitedly, hugging Toothless quickling before bounching over to stand in front of his father. “An’ wha’s up wi’ yer helmet?” 

Hiccup had added little Night Fury horns to his flight suit, making him appear even more draconic. “I’m going as Toothless.” 

“Ye cannae do tha’!” Nuffink laughed. “Uncle Gobber’s already doin’ it!” 

Gobber waved, then went back to trying to pull Tuff the Tree up. 

“Well, I suppose we’re twins then,” Hiccup chuckled and shrugged. But look closely at Toothless for a second.” 

Nuffink did do and saw that the dragon’s torso was pained brown. His back-left leg was gray. “He’s ye!” Nuffink cried out in delight, beginning to laugh. “Ye dressed up yer dragon as ye!” 

“Well,” Hiccup grinned at his small son. “I’m going as him, it’s only fair.” 

“An’ is Mom goin’ as Stormfly?” Nuffink looked at her, too see that she was, in fact, wearing her suit as well. She smiled and waved at him. “Is Stormy goin’ ta dress up too, Mom?” 

“No, she’s not as goofy as Toothless and your father,” Astrid smiled and patted Stormfly. 

“Goofy?” Hiccup asked, offended. “Excuse you, I am a genius!” 

“A very goofy genius,” Astrid laughed and punched her husband’s arm. 

Hiccup sighed. “Well, is everyone here?” 

“Uncle Fishlegs isn’t!” Nuffink and Spikelout said simultaneiously. 

“Oh, yes I am!” Fishlegs stumbled in, wearing no costume, but he did have one of Meatlug’s youngest children in his pouch. “Meatlug had another litter, Hiccup! This has to go in the book! Three so far! We need to find out how many are even possible!” 

“After trick-or-treat,” Hiccup promised. “Now, speaking of,” He raised his voice so the whole group could hear. “Treats are the only thing accepted. If someone lacks treats, we do not—I repeat; do NOT—raid their house later in the night and steal their food. Do I make myself clear?” He looked pointedly at the twins, who sighed and nodded. Hiccup nodded back. “Alright then!” He clapped his scale-covered hands together. “Who wants candy?” 

Cheers erupted, and the group was off. 

But Hiccup hadn’t noticed one thing. 

Ruffnut’s hands were behind her back. 

And her fingers were crossed.


End file.
